Empty Chairs
by Concupiscence66
Summary: After "Chokes", Howard gets a chance to be a serious actor and Vince is left on his own. This is a gift for and the result of many discussions with the lovely bluestocking79. The rating may move to M, later on. We'll see where my muse takes me...
1. Chapter 1

Title: Empty Chairs

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Rating: PG

Warnings: slightly angsty

Summary: After the events of "Chokes", Howard is on his way to being a "serious actor".

Author's note: This was written for the amazing lj use="bluestocking79" and is a very late birthday gift. Typically, my cute little idea has gotten a bit long so I'll post it in chapters.

Things were a bit weird when Howard came back from Denmark but Vince assumed it would pass. Why wouldn't it? They'd been friends for nearly twelve years. In order to make the math work, Vince was now ten when he began working at the Zooniverse. You don't chuck twelve years of friendship over a cheeky kiss at a party. Sure, he'd been a bit over-zealous and maybe Howard had a moment of confusion, but those things happened in the course of a friendship.

Didn't they? If you could get stranded on a desert island, lead a mutant revolution and see Bob Fossil dance; then surely a kiss and the occasional feel up couldn't be out of line. On the spectrum of weird moments, a little tongue had to fall below grating a man's cheese head or being wooed by a transsexual Merman. It shouldn't have been a big deal, but it was and then Howard went away. Then he came back but he went away again and Vince wasn't sure what was worse: Howard coming and going or Howard just being gone for good. It wasn't fair to Adam, really.

Now Howard was filming a proper movie with Your Gin Horrormeister or whatever his name was. He simply had to have Howard to star in his new opus, "The Failure". Apparently, the camera loved the failure in Howard's little chocolate brown eyes.

Howard called once a month and they always ended up fighting. Vince would plan all month how he would apologize but then he'd hear Howard's voice...

He didn't even know why he was angry. Of all his delusions of grandeur, the dream of being a great actor was one of Howard's oldest. Now that Howard couldn't dream of running his own zoo, he needed something to keep him dreaming.

Howard was due back in two months, but he'd already been offered a role on an American crime show with a bunch of letters in the title. He was being asked to play a man who failed at a suicide attempt. There was a wacky American sitcom that wanted Howard to play a failed actor. There was an even wackier Canadian sitcom that wanted Howard to play a failed businessman. The only offer from a BBC show was a wacky sitcom that wanted Howard to play a failed piece of cheddar. Howard said he couldn't take the role, it would be disrespectful to Tommy. Howard could be gone for a long time. Vince was going to need something to keep himself occupied.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Empty Chairs

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: drug and alcohol abuse, language, angst

Summary: Vince is keeping himself busy

Author's note: Another short chapter, thanks to everyone reading!

The lights left trails behind them as though the room were full of comets. Everywhere he looked, Vince saw shooting stars. He could see why it was called Ecstacy, it made everything seem genius. Leroy kept forcing water down his throat.

"When the fuck is Howard going to invite us to visit him in Hollywood?" Leroy whined as he drew a happy face on his arm in glow-in-the-dark paint.

"Soon as he gets in a jam, he'll call," Vince assured the numerous Leroys wavering before his eyes, "S'matter a'time."

xxx

Howard was photographed with Mimi Vole, a human disaster. A once promising actress and singer, Mimi was now known for being arrested and failing drug tests. When Vince saw her and Howard being spotted all about town together, he started looking into plane tickets. Howard was going to need to be rescued from the den of vice that was Hollywood.

Before Vince went and booked a flight, he was still waiting for Howard to actually ask him to come, Mimi went into rehab. The day she complete treatment, she was wearing corduroy and explaining how her life had been saved by free form jazz.

"Drugs will destroy your life and your self-image and everything you've ever worked for or cared about," Mimi said into the camera, her eyes shining with tears, "Nothing good ever came from drugs... except in the music world. Let's face it, 90% of good music and 99% of good jazz came from people who were off their faces. I'm talking the hard stuff, too. There's a lot of great jazz brought to us by the letter H..."

That's when her publicist ended the interview. Mimi said that she and "respected film and television actor, Howard Moon" were just good friends.

Vince had to admit, Mimi had always looked good but her new "jazzercised" body was a thing of beauty.

Howard was looking pretty good, himself. He was moisturized and conditioned, his hair looked shiny and manageable. He looked less like a tramp and more like a Hollywood actor playing a tramp.

Vince knitted a pullover for Bollo. He took up smoking so he could quit. He and Leroy got the band back together.

"When is Howard gonna give us the call?" Leroy sulked as Vince outlined his eyes in glittery stars.

"S'only a matter of time 'til he's in a fix, then he'll call," Vince said with authority, "Now, let's practice the 'Bridge Over Troubled Water/Highway to Hell' medley. You been missin' your intros."

xxx

Vince's brown roots were down to his ears when he grabbed a pair scissors and chopped away. Now he didn't need to worry about dying his hair any more. That would leave him more time for his homemade jam collection.

xxx

"Why are you screaming at me?"

"Because it's none of your business, that's why!" Vince screamed into the phone. It was a bit of an over reaction to Howard's query of, "How've you been?"

"You're being ridiculous," Howard sighed.

"You're being ridiculous!" Vince yelled. Tears were brimming in his eyes. Howard had been gone for over a year.

"I don't have time for this," Howard snapped, "I just called to say I'm not going to be able to call for a while. I'm working on a new project with Jurgen..."

"Fuck Jurgen and fuck you, too!" Vince screamed before beating his phone into pieces with his Cuban heel.

"Soooo..." Naboo sighed, "Still doing fine, I take it?"

"I'm fine," Vince mumbled, "Just... bad reception."


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Empty Chairs Author: Concupid Pairing: Vince/Howard Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Angst, Spice Girls Summary: Vince continues to miss Howard. Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh, they own themselves.

Vince had slowly moved closer to Bollo until he was in the gorilla's lap. Bollo rolled his eyes but began grooming Vince like in the old days, back at the zoo. Back before Howard had taken a shine to Vince and Mr. Bollo was the closest thing he had to a friend.

He'd been at the zoo for three months when he'd fallen asleep in Bollo's arms during the night shift. He'd woken up to Howard hissing his name. Howard had been terrified, whispering for Vince to carefully climb out of the cage before he was ripped limb from limb.

He'd jumped a foot when Vince accidentally woke Bollo up.

"Don't kill him, Bollo, he's got so much to give!"

"Sorry, Mr. Bollo. Sorry, Mr. Moon," Vince mumbled as he scurried out of the cage, locking the door behind him. He knew Bollo had made a copy of the keys to his cage years ago and came and went as he pleased. Vince locked the door to please Howard, because Howard liked when people followed rules.

As soon as they were out of Bollo's reach, Howard laid into Vince. He called Vince irresponsible and foolish.

"What if Bollo ate you, eh? Then he'd have to be put down and it would have been your fault, sir. I would maul you, myself, if you came wandering into my bedroom at night, rip your pointy face straight off, I would."

Vince burst into tears. He cried because he'd never been on his own before, because he hadn't finished school, because he couldn't face his mum, because he was afraid of everyone at the zoo and because he was terribly lonely. He also cried because he fancied Howard a bit.

"Don't cry, Little Man, c'mon now," Howard's voice had been all panicky, "Stiff upper lip. I'll give you a piece of candy if you stop crying."

Vince cried harder because he really wanted some sweets.

"It's fine, you're not dead... no harm, no foul, eh? The animals like you, Vince. I see you with them, it's like... A lot of people 'round here think you're mental... but I think you have a gift."

Howard was the first person Vince ever told about his gift. Howard had been so happy back then. He'd enjoyed watching Vince communicate with the animals. He'd been so eager to learn what was going on in their heads... and so disappointed to find out. Most of the animals in the zoo had been raised in the zoo. They didn't have very interesting stories. They were constantly being stared at and it turned them into egomaniacs. They were worse than reality TV stars.

Bollo had been the only one with stories to tell, and wisdom to share.

"Maybe Vince give Harold call? Tell Harold come home?" Bollo suggested when Naboo left the room to get more crisps.

Vince shook his head, trying to shake away the memories of when Howard had actually wanted to be around Vince.

"I don't need Howard!" Vince yelled, "I'm fine on my own!"

Then he cried himself to sleep on Bollo's shoulder.

xxx

Leroy literally dragged Vince out of the house, but even he agreed Vince couldn't be seen anywhere cool in his current condition, so they went to the worst club in town. Even in sweat pants, Vince was able to walk straight in, no wait.

The flirtinis were good, the DJ was terrible. After several un-danceable songs, Vince and Leroy reluctantly hit the floor to the Fugees.

"This song was the shit," Leroy reminisced, "Remember when it came out? What was that boring story Howard told us about this song?"

"He said it was a cover of a cover," Vince said, surprised how well he remembered that particular lecture, "The first girl what sang it was singing about how she saw that American Pie guy..."

"The one who fucked a pie?"

"No," Vince snapped, "That singer, Don McLean. He sang that song, 'Bye, bye, Miss American Pie...'. Well, she saw him singing some other song and she felt like he was singing about her..."

"So she sang about him singing about her?" Leroy asked, lazily doing his modified box-step to the music, "That is such a Howard kind of story. What was the song this girl heard him singing?"

"I don't remember," Vince admitted. He could remember the cool authority in Howard's voice and how bright his eyes had been, but he only vaguely remembered the words.

"Let's go back to my place and look it up," Leroy suggested, "Before this guy plays another Spice Girls' ballad."

"Too Much" was already playing before they made their escape.

xxx

Vince didn't much care for computers, they tended to go rogue and erase your entire shopping basket after you'd spent nearly eight hours picking out the perfect outfit. It would say horrible things like, "session timed-out", like there could be a time limit on shopping. It was mental.

Vince looked over Leroy's shoulder and he searched for information on Don McLean and "Killing me Softly."

The song was called "Empty Chairs". It was well depressing.

"No wonder Howard banged on about that story," Leroy sighed, "He loves depressing himself. If it weren't for you..."

"Without me, he's a huge success. He's rich and famous," Vince pointed out, embarrassed by the bitterness in his tone. He should be happy for Howard, the selfish prick.

"He weren't ever happy before you came to work at the zoo. I was his best mate and I could barely stand to be 'round him. Only you could make Howard stop worrying and have some fun."

Vince well remembered the first time Howard invited him down the pub. Leroy had taken to Vince right away and made him feel like he'd always been part of Howard's social circle. It was much later he'd learned how grateful Leroy had been for Vince's arrival. He had been about to give up his favorite boozer just to get away from Howard's moodiness. Leroy and Howard hadn't been so much mates as two guys who sat next to each other at the bar.

_Never thought the words you said were true._

_Never thought you said just what you meant._

_Never knew how much I needed you._

_Never thought you'd leave until you went._

Vince looked at the lyrics on the screen. He wanted to punch Don McLean.

He had Leroy download the song to Vince's iPod.

xxx

Vince lay in bed, looking at Howard's side of the room. He hadn't touched it. The bed was neatly made and covered in dust. Don's gentle voice was in Vince's ears, killing him softly with his words.

_Moonlight used to bathe the contours of your face._

_While chestnut hair fell all around the pillow case._

_And the fragrance of your flowers rest beneath my head._

_A sympathy bouquet left with the love that's dead._  
Howard called twelve times in twelve months. He had to care about Vince, at least a little. It cost a lost of money to call from America... or so Vince imagined. He didn't even know Howard's number.


	4. Chapter 4

Vince realized that Chinese food was a wonderful salve to his wounded soul. Within weeks of his discovery, none of his clothes fit any more. He was wearing one of Howard's sweaters like a dress when he asked Naboo if he knew some magic that could help him lose a little weight. Naboo suggested, "Stop mopin' 'bout all day, eatin' Chinese food. Walk around or somethin'."

Naboo could be quite wise so Vince took his advice. Leroy blew the dust off his gym pass and the two of them hit the recumbent bicycles. Vince found he was even more comfortable on the stationary bike if he didn't peddle. Instead he just leaned back and watched the news. With amazing reflexes, Leroy kept Vince from hurling his water bottle at the telly as soon as Jurgen's big, stupid head filled the screen.

"I paid for that water, you berk. Don't waste it."

"Ze problem with 'Ze Grissly Man' es he wass not a film maker. A film maker would have gotten ze shot off ze grissly death... Pardon ze pun!" Jurgen laughed uproariously before suddenly becoming serious, "It is very sad a man ees dead, sadder still that ze director did not get ze shot."

Leroy laughed, "Does this guy think the man_ wanted_ to be eaten by a grizzly bear? Is he for real?"

"He's real, all right. A real idiot. Howard loves him."

"When I first met Howard Moon, I thought to myself, zis man will be eaten by a bear," Jurgen continued, "I don't know why, but I felt it in my soul and zat is why he is ze star of Grissly Man II: E-fen Grisstlier."

"What? He is going to get sued by about 100 people..." Leroy was still laughing.

"Howard's going to get eaten by a bear," Vince whispered, "He needs me. He needs me, right now! Show me how to work that stupid computer thing again!"

xxx

Howard had been in Alaska for two weeks already. Jurgen had a whole crew out there filming him day and night in hopes that he'd either develop a deep bond with the bears or, better yet, be eaten by one.

"Cheers, Gary!" Vince yelled as he hopped off the light weight plane. It was normally a treat to spend time with Gary Numan, but the musician had recently become obsessed with Mimi Vole and played jazz fusion the whole trip. Vince tried to think of it as practice. Soon, he'd have Howard back and his sixteen month hiatus from jazz would be at an end. The idea of Howard making tea to the sounds of Charlie Mingin' was enough to bring tears to Vince's eyes.

Vince ran a hand through his hair, and realized he hadn't used any product. He'd gone at it with the scissors again, this time with a mirror, and turned his mangled hair into something relatively stylish. His natural color was darker than he remembered, possibly because he hardly ever went outside or even laid eyes on the sun. With enough styling mud, wax and hairspray, he looked pretty fucking cool. The rest of the time, he looked a frightful mess.

Vince dropped his suitcase and started searching for his hair products. He couldn't have Howard seeing him looking like a sick hamster that just gave up on grooming itself. He didn't need Howard thinking that he couldn't make it on his own, or that he needed someone to look after him.

He didn't want Howard to see him looking boring and plain.

All he had was a half empty can of Root Booster, so he did his best. He sprayed it on his fingers to use as a gel. He used twigs to shape his hair. While not as strong as Goth Juice, when he finally sprayed his hair into place, he did notice a swarm of mosquitoes frozen in the air around him. He didn't have any foundation or color, just a broken eyeliner pencil. Maybe Howard wouldn't notice that Vince wasn't looking his best. Maybe he wouldn't notice that Vince had gained a stone and was wearing his old clothes (with a few pieces from Howard's wardrobe mixed in).

Howard hadn't noticed Vince wore eyeliner until they'd been working together for nearly three years. Vince had just stepped out of the shower after a porpoise race, when Howard came to gripe about Bollo's new perm. It hadn't even been Vince's idea, Bollo had been going through an age crisis and thought a loose perm would give him a more youthful look.

Howard had grabbed Vince by the chin and pulled him into the light. Vince could remember exactly how he felt, clutching the towel around his waist and feeling Howard's breath on his nose. For a moment, he'd actually thought Howard was about to kiss him.

Then Howard asked, _"What's wrong with your eyes? They look all small and faded."_

_"I don't have my make-up on, yet,"_ Vince explained, feeling a bit weak in the knees from their proximity.

_"Do you really wear make-up?"_ Howard asked, his tone thoughtful, _"I guess I owe Joey Moose an apology."_

Howard would probably notice Vince was not looking like his normal self, but maybe he wouldn't care.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Empty Chairs

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Warnings: discussing the horrible things bears do for a laugh

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Vince finds Howard

Author's note: Another short chapter.

Vince had walked about ten feet when he ran into his first bear.

"All right? Have you seen my mate, Howard? Tall, jazzy, tiny little crab eyes embedded in a man's face?"

"Hairless, angry, non-bear? Just keep following the path to many fishes, it goes straight through camp we'll-eat-them-if-we're-desperate," the bear responded in a deep and creamy voice that brought Barry White to mind.

"Cheers," Vince yelled over his shoulder as he went running down the path. He was just starting to get a stitch in his side when he ran into another bear, this time, literally.

"Mind the fur!" the bear growled, standing on his hind legs, "It's mating season, you know. There's a girl I fancy and I've been rubbing up against trees all day to give my fur a silky sheen."

His voice wasn't quite as deep as the first bear's. This bear seemed well-suited to advertising coffee or moderately priced cognac.

"Sorry, 'bout that," Vince apologized, "Normally, I'd have some argon oil or some kind of shine serum, but... I guess I forgot to pack them."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't eat you right now?" the bear demanded, leaning in until Vince could feel and smell his hot, fishy breath.

"Well, maybe I can help you with the ladies," Vince offered, "I listen to a lot of pop songs, so I know what girls like."

The bear looked thoughtful, "Maybe... I've done everything to impress this female. I've beat the living daylights out of other bears in front of her, and gloated loudly. I ate her cub so she's free to mate..."

"Wot? That is not on. You will never get a nice bear by eating her young," Vince interjected, "Acting like a psychopath isn't going to get you a girlfriend!"

"But that's how my late dad wooed my mother."

"What happened to your father?" Vince asked, more to be polite than out of any interest.

"Mum ripped his throat out while he was sleeping. He was a fine feast for the two of us, I can tell you that."

"See what I mean?" Vince asked. The bear tilted his head and looked almost pensive.

"You might have a point there."

Suddenly, there was a loud rustle in the bushes and a deep voice yelling, "Off with you, Bainbridge. We don't need any of your nonsense."

Vince went a bit weak in the knees. It had been so long since he'd heard Howard's voice in person.

The bear looked ready to put up a fight, but Howard was wearing his, "I-am-more-annoyed-by-stupidity-than-I-am-afraid-of-dying" expression. The bear wisely backed down. Howard went fetal at the slightest threat to his person, but - like a mother lifting a car off of her child - he had the strength of ten men when he was properly cheesed off.

Howard gave a two fingered salute to the retreating bear, then he turned to Vince.

"Took you long enough," he snapped before storming off.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Empty Chairs

Author: Concupid

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: language

Summary: The awkward reunion continues.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters and this is all for fun and no money shall ever be made.

Author's note: I've been writing. Just very slowly! Thank you to anyone still hanging on, especially Bluey since she inspired this new opus.

Vince chased after Howard, who looked to be in a proper strop. It wasn't exactly the reception he'd been hoping for, but it wasn't completely unexpected either.

"Slow down, Howard!" Vince cried, "I keep slipping in bear waste."

"You should have worn more practical shoes. We're in the forest, not a rodeo," Howard snapped without glancing back.

Vince looked at his red snakeskin boots. They _were_ his most comfortable shoes. He'd picked them out especially for the trip. Howard had once told Vince that big, scary, man-eating bears were no respecters of fashion... or something like that.

Vince was lost in his shoe thoughts when he stumbled over a branch and went sprawling to the ground. It was worth the skinned knee, because Howard immediately ran to his side to help him up.

"Are you all right, Vince? Can you wiggle your toes?"

Vince went limp while the taller man fussed over him. Howard had been pushing him away for as long as he could remember, so it was nice to be held.

Even if it was for first aid purposes.

"Can you walk?" Howard asked, "It isn't far to my tent."

"I think I can make it," Vince answered in all sincerity, "If I can just lean on you a bit."

Vince leaned on Howard's shoulder and found the Northerner's hair was sticking to his face. His glossy brown locks had a sweet smell.

"What kind of product are you using in your hair?" Vince asked as Howard all but dragged him down the pathway.

"I don't use 'product'," Howard snapped, "Jurgen put honey in my hair while I was sleeping."

"What a dick," Vince observed.

Howard snorted, "That's the understatement of the year."

xxx

As soon as they arrived at camp, Vince found himself unceremoniously dumped on the ground as Howard went racing towards a day glow yellow tent. Howard has always been one for neatness, but Vince thought it was a bit of an over-reaction to some litter. It wasn't until Howard started throwing the trash into steel barrels that Vince realized that someone had left food in front of Howard's tent. He should have been angry that Jurgen was trying to get a bear to eat Howard, but what really bothered him was that Jurgen was endangering the lives of the bears by exposing them to human food. Vince had never worked with animals in the wild, only in Shoreditch, but he watched enough telly to know that bears who got used to a diet of Pop Tarts generally didn't live very long, and not because of the diabetes. The bears would become aggressive and end up being put down because of someone's carelessness.

If it was bothering Vince, it had to be upsetting Howard. Howard a) always followed the rules and b) really cared about animals. They might have lost some of their romance when Vince started translating their grunts and growls, but Howard liked to take care of things.

Vince limped towards the tent and began picking up the rubbish. He could hear a bear approaching and yelled, "False alarm! It's all going in big, metal cans. Best keep fishing."

Vince listened to make sure the creaking of branches was indeed moving _away_ from the campsite.

When he turned to Howard, he was surprised by the intensity of Howard's stare.

"Wot? Have I got shit on my face?" Vince asked, partially to break the tension with a joke and partially because it was a legitimate concern. The bears had left plenty of souvenirs about the place.

"I don't imagine I'll ever get used to you talking to animals," Howard explained, looking thoughtful, "It's always remarkable."

Vince tried to think of a clever response, but nothing came to mind. Instead, he threw his arms around Howard's neck and hugged him tight. He expected to be pushed away, but instead he got an awkward pat on the back.

"It's... it's been a long time," Howard said in a strangled voice.

"Yeah," Vince croaked. He felt like there was a rock lodged in his throat. Howard smelled like, well, salmon but he also smelled warm and familiar. He pulled away all too quickly, leaving Vince feeling painfully cold.

"I - Leroy missed you," Vince continued, his voice cracking like he was going through puberty again, "He asks about you all the time."

Howard nodded silently, his eyes fixed on his hiking boots.

"And Naboo and Bollo..."

"Don't bother telling me they miss me," Howard snapped, "I know they don't."

Vince knew there was no point in correcting Howard. Just because Naboo and Bollo didn't like Howard didn't mean they didn't love him and need him around. Howard came from a small family, he didn't really understand you didn't have to like everyone you loved.

"S'not the same without you," Vince explained, staring at his boots.

Howard had an expression on his face like he was waiting for the rest of the story. Howard always said Vince's stories didn't end properly. He wanted stories to end, but in real life, things didn't end. They just kept going and going, but in different ways.

"How's your knee?" Howard asked, his voice suddenly quiet.

Vince could see some blood seeping through the material of his trousers, "Hurts a bit."

"We'll never be able to roll those legs up, you'll need to wear a pair of my mine so we can clean it at the stream," Howard said in his old, bossy tone, "You and your drainpipes."

Vince hobbled after Howard into the tent. The trousers weren't drainpipes, they were just too tight. Howard had spent over a year among the most fashionable stars in Hollywood and still didn't know a thing about clothing, and Vince was grateful. Howard had dropped a few inches from his waist since the last time they'd seen one another. If Howard's trousers fit Vince, he was going to cry.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Empty Chairs

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: callous disregard for the feelings of salmon?

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh and if I wanted to make money, I wouldn't work in community mental health.

Author's note: It's a shortish chapter but I'm already deep into the next one! My goal of writing 10,000 words in 10 days is going strong.

Vince still needed a belt to keep Howard's corduroys from sliding off his hips, but he didn't have to pull it very tight.

"Wot kind of diet you on, Howard? Are you in the Zone? South Beach? You ain't gonna do a Weight Watchers ad are you?" Vince teased. It wasn't until Howard glared at him that Vince remembered Howard did that stupid commercial for trapped wind. He wasn't even trying to hurt Howard's feelings, it was like he couldn't help himself. No wonder Howard didn't want him around.

"I don't like the food in America, it doesn't taste right," Howard explained defensively, as he wrapped his arm around Vince's waist, "I'm not trying to be one of _them_."

"Who are them?" Vince leaned on Howard just a little more than was strictly necessary.

"Those vapid airheads that only ever think about how they look," Vince was taken aback by Howard's vehemence, "Skinny idiots in skinny jeans with skinny brains."

"People like me?" Vince asked, needing but not wanting an answer.

"Hardly," Howard chuckled, "I've longed for the creativity of a Charlie story while listening to fools with blinding white teeth yammer on about whatever Madonna told them to care about this week."

Vince was counting it as a compliment.

"So, is brown the new black in Camden?" Howard asked, gesturing towards Vince's head. Vince ducked and toyed with his hair, feeling embarrassed. Howard had never seen Vince's real hair color before. Vince desperately longed for a mirror. He hoped the river would be good and reflective like in all the pictures of Alaska.

"Um, yeah? It's well out to dye your hair. It's all about the natural look..." Vince's lie sounded weak to his own ears.

"Is this your real color?" Howard asked, suddenly intrigued. Vince wobbled on his good leg as Howard examined his head, "I've always wondered what it looked like under all that garbage."

Vince wanted to point out he still had some 'garbage' in his hair, but it seemed pedantic. A little hastily applied Root Boost didn't really count. Howard was seeing Vince in his nearly natural state, and he didn't seem horrified.

He gave Howard a quick kiss on the cheek.

Howard jerked back, holding his cheek like he'd been slapped and looking more paranoid than usual.

"What was that?" he demanded.

"A kiss," Vince explained.

"I know it was... why did you kiss me?" Howard looked angry and distrustful, like Vince was trying to pull something. Like he was a stranger.

"I missed you," Vince said, hoping honesty would make up for his lack of eloquence, "There's no one quite like you, Howard."

"Well, Howard Moon is one of a kind," Howard agreed, but his voice lacked conviction, "And I suppose there's no one quite like you, either, Little Man."

"Lucky that, right, Howard?"

It was supposed to be a joke, but Vince's voice broke and his eyes filled with tears. He fussed with his hair, trying to hide his face but he could only hide so much while clinging to Howard's shoulder. The idea of letting go of Howard when he'd been granted permission to hang on was simply ridiculous.

Howard stopped moving and Vince could hear Howard run his tongue over his teeth, a sure sign he was nervous. There probably wasn't another person alive who could have identified the sound, but it was as familiar and comforting to Vince as a lullaby. Whatever was making Howard so angry, he wasn't indifferent to Vince's feelings. He still cared. Vince was trying to work out how to explain feelings he barely understood to Howard when his companion's body language changed from nervous to panic-stricken. Howard's arm tightened around Vince's waist and his breathing was suddenly shallow and uneven. He was so focused on listening to Howard, Vince had barely registered the sounds of an approaching bear. Animals don't smell fear and become aggressive because they sense weakness, they become aggressive because they know a fearful person is unpredictable and dangerous. Vince's constant optimism was more than a philosophical outlook, it was a survival tactic.

"Hey, we're just heading to the stream to clean up," Vince called out, "That stream is chock full of delicious salmon! You should come with us and tuck into a tasty fish buffet."

They listened to the bear retreat. When Howard seemed satisfied they were no longer in danger, he resumed dragging Vince towards the stream - but not before giving him a little squeeze around the waist. It wasn't quite a hug, but for Howard, it was pretty close.


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Empty Chairs

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Mentions of Fossil and Kodiak Jack! More salmon insensitivity.

Summary: Vince is introduced to Howard's current social circle.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh, I just like to borrow them for fun and angst.

Author's note: Staying on track with my 10,000 words in ten days!

Vince gasped when they made their way into the clearing. There were a dozen bears in or around the stream, each one the size of a small bus. Even the babies were massive.

"Relax, Howard," Vince instructed as held up his hands and tried to show the bears he was just a fun-loving guy who didn't have a gun, "They're as afraid of you as you are of them."

"I seriously doubt that," Howard grumbled under his breath as he steered Vince towards an empty patch of land. Even from a good two hundred yards, the bears were a tremendous sight.

"It's so beautiful here," Vince observed. It was an idyllic scene. The only hint that humans had ever touched the land were the mounted cameras from Jurgen's crew.

"They're run by remote control," Howard explained, "After a few days, it occurred to his crew that they could actually be eaten trying to film me being eaten. Now everyone but Jurgen stays behind an electric fence."

Vince wanted to ask Howard why he was there, why he was willing to be sacrificed like some proverbial (or maybe not so proverbial) virgin for a egomaniacal madman. What he managed to ask was, "Why?"

Howard was in full nursemaid mode, and Vince couldn't be sure if Howard was ignoring the question or if he actually hadn't heard. He tended to get absorbed when he was fussing over a patient, and couldn't hear over the sound of his own clucking. He'd worn a "Fox Bummer" sign on his back for two weeks without noticing when Jack Cooper had a sprained ankle. Tending to the fox had become Howard's reason for waking up in the morning, and Vince had been a little jealous. Howard would have been a great nurse if he weren't so grouchy and short-tempered. He'd make you chicken soup from scratch if you had a cold, but he'd also throw it in your face if you asked for a little more salt.

"Howard, is that bear walking towards us?"

Howard stood up and waved his arms, "Back off, Mr. Teeth!"

The bear turned around meekly but mumbled, "Dick," under his breath. Howard looked so pleased with himself that Vince was happy he didn't know the bear had just cussed him out.

"That bear just called you a dick, that is genius," Vince said, the words being pulled from his mouth by some invisible (and utterly mental) force.

Howard's face dropped and Vince stared at his nails. He couldn't help himself, there were so many things he had to keep secret from Howard, all the rest of his thoughts just came tumbling out.

"Why is that one called Mr. Teeth?" Vince asked as Howard began cleaning his knee with ice cold water. The cold went straight to his bones, but Howard's hand felt warm on his calf.

"He's called Mr. Teeth because he's got big, horrible teeth," Howard explained, his snappish tone not fitting with his gentle touch, "That one is called Killer. That's Man-eater. That's Monster-face..."

Vince laughed, "Them are the worst bear names ever, Howard. These bears just want to eat fish. They wouldn't eat you... unless they were hungry or scared."

"That is tremendously reassuring, Vince. Have you considered running for office?"

"I'm just sayin', they aint' gonna come atcha for no reason. That's why Jurgen hasn't been able to get you eaten yet. You aren't part of their diet plan."

"I know a thing or two about bears, all right?" Howard snapped.

Like Vince, Howard didn't have any special qualifications to work at a zoo. He'd come to the Zooniverse after dropping out of school (also like Vince). What he knew about animals was all self-taught from books and magazines, but he'd wanted to be a proper zoo keeper someday. When the men in black suits came to close the Zooniverse, Howard's face had been in all the papers as one of the ring leaders of the illegal zoo. Fossil and Bambridge played dumb, insisting, "Howard Moon, former male prostitute" had duped them and had really been in charge the whole time. It didn't matter that it wasn't true, Howard looked so guilty in every picture - it just seemed true.

"Is there one named Fossil?" Vince asked, trying to maneuver to a safe topic.

"Of course," Howard was clearly trying not to smile, "He's not here, though."

As awful as it was, Vince fondly remembered those days after the zoo closed, when Howard had needed him more than ever. Vince had to physically drag Howard out of the zoo, pack up his things and have Bollo help move the boxes into Naboo's place. For a few weeks, Vince was the strong one who made things happen. He was the voice of reason saying things like, "If you keep crying directly into your tea, you're going to get dehydrated," and letting Howard plan their yearly holiday.

"Does he have a big belly? Does he dance? Is he just a colossal dick?" Vince asked with glee. Nothing made Howard friendlier than talking about someone he hated.

Howard's lips twitched in a barely contained smile.

"See that bear grooming himself?"

Vince looked at the especially shiny and fluffy looking bear, "Yeah?"

"If we stay here an hour, he'll still be grooming himself," Howard explained.

Vince had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"That's why I named him Vince," Howard continued.

Vince smiled at his beautiful namesake. Even if it was a joke about Vince's vanity, Howard had still named a gorgeous bear after him.

"You'll know Fossil when you see him," Howard added with a smirk, "He'll be the one relentlessly trying to hump Vince."

Vince laughed despite the appalling image. Howard had vacillated between shielding Vince from Fossil's creepy attentions and offering Vince like a sacrificial lamb in order to get Fossil off his own back. If Howard were always loving or always indifferent, Vince wouldn't be such a shambles. He'd spent years trying to be who he thought Howard wanted him to be, and it never made a difference. He'd taken care of Howard the best he knew how after the Zooniverse closed, but Howard had still traded him to Kodiak Jack for a map. If he was totally honest with himself, generally not a good idea, Vince hadn't really needed the straighteners to keep Kodiak Jack at bay. He'd talked his way out of worse, but things had gone a bit fuzzy in his brain after Kodiak Jack mentioned how "generous" it was of Howard to share a beauty like Vince. All the rage he couldn't quite aim at Howard was directed at Kodiak's nose.

He never brought it up, but he knew Howard was remorseful afterwards. Vince had spent years trying to convince Howard they should form a band and had always been shot down. A week after the Kodiak Jack incident, The Mighty Boosh was born. Howard had apparently found a loophole in his deal with the Spirit of Jazz. He was only possessed when he tried to play _good_ music. In Howard's words, _"As long as I'm only playing this New Wave shit, I'll be fine."_

"Vince must be the best looking bear here," Vince pointed out, "You can't blame Fossil. Look at that fur! I might get some ginger highlights, myself."

Howard rolled his eyes as he lightly wrapped Vince's knee in gauze, "Don't try to buddy up to Vince, Vince. She's very defensive. I don't have your gift, but I think I've heard her say, 'Don't touch my hair!' when other bears have approached."

Two small cubs came scampering towards them. Vince waited for Howard to scare them off, but Howard just smiled.

"You'll like these little guys," Howard said, his eyes all soft and dewy like he was looking at baby kittens. Howard had a serious soft spot for little animals.

The cubs kept a safe distance, in fact, when they got too close, Howard did yell at them. They clearly weren't afraid of Howard, they were just following his rules. Vince decided he'd have a good talk with the little bears before they left, make sure they understood that Howard was right. They shouldn't get too close to humans, even nice eccentrics like Howard (and Vince). It bothered him to imagine something happening to Howard's cubs.

"What are their names?" Vince asked as the cubs wrestled. Tiny in comparison to the full grown bears, the cubs probably already weighed more than Vince and Howard combined. One mimed ripping the throat out of the other, only to be knocked over onto his back and pinned.

"The bitey one is Chewy Teeth," Howard explained with a soft smile, "He'll chew on anything."

Vince smiled. The first time Howard called him Chewy Teeth, Vince had spent a week trying to talk without showing his teeth as he tried to figure out what Howard had meant. When he finally broke down and asked, Howard had looked confused.

_"You have teeth, you use them to chew... What part is tripping you up, Little Man?"_

Despite all the bear shit and the half-eaten salmon carcasses strewn about the place, it was incredibly beautiful.

"This place is well nice," Vince exclaimed, wishing he could think of better words to use.

Howard looked around, his brow furrowed in distrust, "It is beautiful..."

"Howard?" Vince wanted to explain how good it was to be with Howard again, how lonely and heart-broken he'd been for over a year on his own. No number of friends, no amount of TV or buckets of tasty food could fill the hole in Vince's life without his best mate. He was pretty sure if he tried to say it out loud, he'd somehow make Howard uncomfortable. He'd find a way to make saying he needed to have Howard filling his hole sound 'weird' to his old friend.

He was lost in his worries about his limited vocabulary when one of the little bears started edging closer. His heart lodged in his throat when Howard stood up and yelled, "Not so close, Little Man."


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Empty Chairs

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Vince/Howard

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: serious sappiness, unlikely bear deaths.

Summary: Vince starts putting things together.

Author's note: Since I'm so behind in my writing, I decided it would be a better thank you to everyone who had encouraged me to actually post an update that just yack about how I can't get writing. This is for my cheerleaders!

Vince wasn't sure if the bear cubs had been named after him or the three of them simply fell into the same, "cute but potentially lethal" category in Howard's mind. Either way, Vince was reassured. Howard had thought about him. He hadn't heard Howard call any of the bears Mimi. Or Gideon. Maybe being in the same category as Fossil and Bambridge wasn't a compliment, but at least he was still on Howard's mind.

He leaned heavily on Howard as they made their way back to his tent. He had a strong urge to smell Howard's hair, but he was afraid of being locked out of the tent for the night. In the Tundra, he'd been pulled a mile from the tent before he'd woken up. The moments between realizing Howard would never hear him screaming in time to help and realizing the polar bear was an all right fellow were the most frightening of Vince's life. The idea of being munched down by a bear was bad enough, but that it could happen with Howard so close was a shock. He had always felt safe when he was with Howard. Howard was his protector, even if he was indifferent about the job.

He didn't realize he was hugging Howard until he was being pushed away.

"Bad enough I don't get to carry bear spray, it seems I need Noir spray, as well," Howard grumbled, as his cheeks turned pink.

"Why did you do this, Howard? Why would you risk being eaten by a bear for a movie?" Vince asked, "You know how prone Moon men are to being devoured by bears..."

"Four generations of Moon men eaten by bears. Two in the wild, one in a circus..."

"And one at Tesco's," Vince finished, well familiar with the tragedies of Howard's family tree. It was no wonder Howard was a bit of a pessimist. His people had a tendency towards bad luck with animals. Vince had once suggested that maybe Howard became a zoo keeper because he had a secret, self-destructive side. Howard had put that theory to rest by saying, "No! What? That's... Shut up and help me get into my wet suit. I'm riding Bitey Face in the porpoise versus shark race."

Howard had narrowly survived his stint with Bitey Face. When the Great White turned on Howard, Vince had sang the theme to "Jaws" until the shark had no choice but to go after Vince. All sharks have heard the "Jaws" theme, and none of them think it's funny. They are well over it.

"If Tesco's didn't have such a good price on quality meat, my grandfather would have lived to see the birth of his only son, my father."

"How long after he died was your father born?" Vince asked, not for the first time.

"Eleven and a half months. Just under a year."

"Doesn't that seem a bit odd?" Vince asked, again, not for the first time.

"What? No... Shut up."

Vince was so grateful to still be hanging on to Howard and not dumped in a heap on the ground, that he almost let it go. Almost.

"Why would you take a chance like this? I know you are a man of action, a man of danger..."

They finished together, "a little Johnny Daring."

"That's right, Little Man. Howard Moon is a risk taker, he lives on the edge. He laughs in the face of fear for the sake of his art," Howard explained as he puffed out his chest.

"But you know Jurgen Haberdasher wants you to be eaten by a bear on film. It's in all the press releases. 'I will film a man being eaten by a bear!' He ain't a good collaborator for an actor on the rise..."

"So you did read the press releases?" Howard snapped, suddenly cold and angry.

"Last night," Vince explained, as he started to get the feeling he would be sleeping outside after all, "after I saw your precious director buddy on the telly talking about how he wanted to film you getting eaten. Leroy helped me look it up. You're lucky I could hitch a ride with Gary. It ain't easy to get out here, you know. You can't take the tube to Grizzly country."

"There's been non-stop press about this film for months," Howard snapped, "I find it hard to believe that you just learned about it yesterday."

"I ain't been watching much telly," Vince held Howard a little tighter, worried about being cast off.

"I did an interview in Cheekbone magazine before flying out here."

Howard had quickened his pace and Vince could barely hang on as he hobbled along.

"I ain't been reading 'Cheekbone'..."

Once he said it, he realized how much he had just revealed about his recent state. He tried to think of a good reason to not be reading the most important and up to date magazine on the planet. He was about to claim he'd gone blind, but was all better now, when he picked up on something important.

"You think 'Cheekbone' is the most useless magazine ever created," Vince pointed out, not understanding why he sounded so accusing, "Why would you do an interview with a magazine you hate?"

Howard was practically dragging Vince towards the tent, "I did a lot of interviews. It's important to do press..."

"You don't do press. I been looking for interviews with you and no one can ever reach you for comment."

"I'm Howard Moon! My thoughts are too large to be expressed in sound bites," Howard explained, "I can be bothered with a load of inane questions."

That was Howardese for "I get the chokes."

"So why'd you do an interview for 'Cheekbone'?" Vince asked. He wondered if there had been a picture. He wanted to see Howard all airbrushed and made up. Even in the woods, Howard's time in Hollywood had left him looking like an actor playing the role of Howard. Vince wanted to see a fake Howard, if only to appreciate the original article all the more.

"I should think that would be obvious," Howard said, suddenly sounding and looking defeated. They were only yards away from Howard's tent, and Vince was looking forward to actually sitting down and talking when he stumbled over a tree branch. Howard tried to hold him up, but Vince just ended up dragging him down. There was a certain poetry to it.

Howard fussed over Vince, and ended up carrying him the rest of the way to the tent. Vince enjoyed the attention and took the opportunity to sniff Howard's hair (which smelled of Argon oil and fish). Howard was battling the tent open when it suddenly became clear to Vince. Howard had given an interview to Vince's favorite magazine, announcing he would be trying to get himself killed by bears out in the middle of nowhere. Vince would naturally read the piece, recognize it was finally his time to come to Howard's rescue, as he could speak to bears and had Gary Numan on speed dial. That was surely what would have happened if Vince hadn't been busy eating himself into oblivion, wondering why Howard didn't need him.

"Howard? Howard? Howard?"

Howard refused to acknowledge him until he managed to get the tent open.

"Did you agree to be eaten by bears so I would come save you?" he asked. Howard dropped him onto the floor of the tent. He could have dropped him on the air mattress, but went for the hard ground, so he was definitely angry.

But he had put Vince down on the _inside_ of the tent. That had to be a good sign.


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Empty Chairs

Author: Concupid

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: drug references

Summary: The boys talk

Author's note: I am very nearly done with the next chapter of Let the Good Times Roll! I say it all the time, but thanks so much to all the super supportive folks who've been reading and cheering me on. Special thanks to Bluey for inspiring this story!

"Howard," Vince couldn't focus his thoughts, his heart was thumping in his chest, "You can't have thought I didn't care! I been waitin' for you to need me for over a year now. Ain't my fault things have been goin' so good for you."

"Good?" Howard sputtered, "Good? I've been caught up in a whirlwind of drugs and perverse excess. When I started spending time with Mimi Vole, Pete Doherty warned me to stay away from her..."

"You met Pete Doherty?"

"Yes, he's in a band or something," Howard snapped, "and apparently he also uses drugs."

Vince bit back the urge to ask a few questions about the Libertines, and tried to decipher Howard's words.

"But you changed Mimi. You made her go straight and wear corduroy," he protested.

"You didn't know that would happen," Howard argued, "It could have gone the other way. I could have ended up on smack, giving hand jobs in an alley. You know I'm prone to repetitive stress injuries..."

"Well, if you'd gotten addicted to heroin or ended up in a wrist brace, I would've been here like a flash! 'Course Mimi changed to be someone you would like better," Vince yelled, aware his hands were shaking, "I _did_ know that would happen. 'Course I knew you weren't going to take drugs or have sex or do anything fun."

"I'll have you know, I did experiment with drugs! I tried Ecstasy at a Hollywood party."

"You did not!," Vince yelled, "No way that happened. I done Ecstasy, so I'll know if you're lying. What was it like?"

Howard called his bluff.

"Remember when Naboo dragged us to his cousin's wedding?"

"On the beautiful planet Xooberon II: Electric Boogaloo?"

"Yes, and we were at the only hotel in town?"

Vince sighed at the memory, "The colors were so bright there! Everything was so vivid under the two suns. I was literally hypnotized by the amber waves of the ocean."

"And all they had were sandwiches?"

"Everything was totally natural and organic. They made their own bread, grew their own vegetables..."

"And they were out of turkey?"

"Because no turkeys had died that week. They let all the animals die of natural causes. They were all running around free and you could feed them..."

"It was like that," Howard finished.

"Like being in a vivid dreamscape of beauty and happiness?"

"Like being in a vivid dreamscape of beauty and happiness and not being able to get the sandwich you've been craving all day."

Vince was pretty sure that was exactly how Howard would feel on X.

"Why were you dropping Ecstasy? You get palpitations from decongestants."

Howard frowned, "It was when I first met Mimi. I told her I was getting a headache from the strobe lights. I didn't realize it was her house. She said she had something that would make me feel better."

Vince felt sick thinking about naive Howard getting dosed by a Hollywood train wreck. Vince should have never let him go to Hollywood by himself. He should have insisted on being there.

"I didn't feel better," Howard added, "Mimi stayed with me..."

"Did you sleep with her?" Vince braced himself for the answer.

"Of course not!" Howard said in his most condescending tone, "Mimi is a huge star. She has more guest rooms than you've had hot meals."

"Not what I meant, Howard."

He didn't have to answer. His red face and stammering were enough to reassure Vince that Howard was still Howard. He'd probably been too busy grousing at Mimi to consider making a move.

"She fancies you," Vince said, feeling a little queasy, "I don't know if you can tell, because you don't really understand women, but when she talks about you..."

_She sounds like me._

"...you can tell she really fancies you."

Howard played with his mustache and looked nervous before changing the subject. As much as he wanted to know every detail of Howard's year away, it was easy to fall into familiar banter about Naboo, Bollo, Fossil and Leroy. Howard fed him salmon and told him stories about Little Man and Chewy Teeth and it felt like they'd only been apart for a long weekend.

"I've missed you, Howard."

Howard went still, but eventually responded, "I've missed you."

"I'm sorry I didn't know you were getting caught up in a web of drugs and beautiful women."

Howard shrugged, "That's all right."

Vince knew it wasn't. Howard had been throwing himself in harm's way, trying to get Vince to come rescue him while Vince had been too wrapped up in his own self-pity to see that he was needed.

That he was wanted.

He pressed his lips to Howard's before he had time to chicken out. Howard was slow to return the kiss, but didn't hesitate to open his mouth for Vince's tongue. It had been the same on the roof. Howard had been surprisingly open-minded for someone who was usually a control freak.

Vince ran his tongue along Howard's and tangled his fingers in Howard's beautifully styled curls. Even in the wilderness, the curls seemed to know just how to behave so that Howard looked elegantly unkempt.

"Vince," Howard whispered, pulling away, "There are cameras all over. We can't do this."

"We can't snog?" Vince asked, looking for a camera in the tent.

"We can't..." Howard flushed and looked away, "We can't take things to... their logical conclusion."

It was Vince's turn to blush, "I wasn't trying to... I was just kissing you! I didn't try nothing..."

"But that's what you wanted, isn't it?" Howard looked a little nervous, "We're both adults. That's what adults do."

"How should I know?" Vince snapped, "I've spent my whole life chasing after you, just trying to get a snog."

"But you've..." Howard trailed off and made a vague hand gesture.

He'd never actually admitted it, but he'd always assumed Howard knew.

"No, I've never... I've kissed and held hands, but... This is embarrassing. Let's talk about something else. Doe Mimi really have a rotating bed?"

Possibly for the first time in their lives, it was Vince hiding from Howard's attempt at eye contact.


	11. Chapter 11

Title: Empty Chairs

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Warnings: a bit of sappiness

Summary: The boys come to a decision.

Author's note: I have actually been writing up a storm for some big bangs. Fear not, you will be inundated with my writing this year! My WIPs have been pushed to the side a bit, but I haven't forgotten them. Thank you for your patience (if you are still reading!)

Howard wouldn't let the subject drop, neither would Vince.

"Whaddja mean, 'How should I know?' I thought you were the Prince of Camden," Howard asked with a hint of a sneer. Vince felt naked, which was all the worse with now that he was a bit squishy in the middle.

"I read in Cheekbone that Mimi has a rotating bed. Even if you didn't," Vince borrowed Howard's term, "Take things to their logical conclusion, you must have been to her house."

"It does rotate, but really slowly so if you're not in your right state of mind..." Howard caught himself, "Don't distract me with Hollywood gossip, sir. We were discussing something important, what do you mean..."

"Since when are you distracted by Hollywood gossip?" Vince countered, "You never gave a toss about anything but jazz and depressin' movies that didn't make sense before. Now you're doing interviews with Cheekbone and hangin' out with celebrities..."

Vince felt tears welling in his eyes, Howard was living a life that Vince had been dreaming about... in a vague sort of way. Howard left Vince to follow his dream of being a great actor, but instead he'd ended up living Vince's dream: hanging out with really cool people.

"You could come to Hollywood," Howard offered, softly, "You might like it, at least for a while. There's loads of famous people, and everyone is always talking about clothes, hair and diets. I have a nice flat with plenty of room."

Vince stared at his injured leg, and tried to think about happy thing while Howard dug his hands in Vince's arm pits and hauled him on to the air mattress. Vince had to think extra hard about a sale at Top Shop not to lose it when Howard put an arm around his shoulder.

"Everyone's in a band. No one can carry a tune, but they all think they can sing and if they can learn two chords, they're playing bass in a prog rock trio at a trendy club," Howard continued, in the gentle tone he normally reserved for when Vince was sick, or grieving an article of clothing, "You'll be a star in a minute! When I first moved out, I worried that when you came along, I'd be straight back in your shadow."

"Wot? You never been in my shadow!" Vince squawked, "I never did anything interesting, 'cept chase you around, getting you out of trouble."

Howard still had his arm around Vince, but was looking in the opposite direction. Vince could feel the tension in the older man's body. He instinctively reached out to rub Howard's belly, like he would an animal. Howard tensed even more, he was as brittle as a brandy snap, but he didn't bark, "Don't touch me!"

He really must have missed Vince.

"Before you came to the zoo, I was the only one who knew how to do anything," Howard explained, "I'd been trained by Tommy, and everyone else was trained by Fossil. All day long, people were asking me questions like, 'What do I feed the gorilla?' or 'Which end of the anteater is the head?' 'Why do I have to sit in Fossil's lap when we have meetings?' I _was_ somebody."

Vince dug his nails into his injured knee in order to keep himself from laughing. Bambridge had eventually tightened his reigns on the zoo, but Vince remembered the chaos when he first arrived.

"Are you laughing at me?" Howard demanded, "I'm pouring out my heart here, and you're having a chuckle at my expense?"

Howard was still looking away, but Vince knew the little bulging vein behind his ear meant that Howard was trying not to laugh.

"That why you didn't want me to come see you?" Vince asked, "You thought I'd show you up 'cause I know 'bout celebrities and skinny jeans?"

Howard pulled his arm from around Vince so he could use both hands to play with his mustache. If Howard got any more worked up, he'd twist the ends until he had a nice handlebar mustache. It wasn't a bad look on Howard. It wasn't a good one, but it wasn't terrible.

"Not exactly... but, yeah. I thought I'd disappear when you showed up."

Vince wrapped his arms around Howard, regretting every day he'd allowed Howard to run free. How could he have ever doubted that Howard needed him?

"I thought you didn't need me," Vince confessed into Howard's shoulder, "I didn't know what to do with myself. Other than eat."

Howard chuckled, "I thought your cheekbones looked less lethal."

Vince blushed, but he didn't let go of Howard. If he had his way, he never would. He blushed even more when he imagined Howard trying to shower with Vince attached to his shoulders.

"It suits you," Howard observed.

"What does?"

Howard inspected Vince's face and hair, like Sherlock Holmes looking for a clue. When his eyes moved down to Vince's body, Vince couldn't help but try and arrange himself into a more flattering position.

"Everything," was Howard's eventual answer.

His teeth clanked against Howard's hard enough to hurt, but no where near bad enough to make him pull back. It was Howard that lowered them down on to the air mattress. His hands were everywhere while Vince couldn't get past the feel of Howard's suddenly thick main of hair. It was still soft and gentle, but it was no longer brown smoke. Howard's hair had become something substantial, something Vince could hold on to.

"What shampoo have you been using?" he asked when Howard moved his mouth to Vince's neck.

"Hotel shampoo," Howard answered, unperturbed. It was a testament to how Howard had risen in the world, he was getting some good shampoo in those itty bitty bottles. Vince could never wash his hair with less than two, but Howard could use a travel size shampoo for weeks.

"Feels nice."

"My hair or...?"

"Both, but I was talking about the hair."

Vince preferred to think it was a swell of passion and not a desire to shut him up that made Howard resume kissing Vince on the mouth.

Even his mustache was less scratchy.

"I missed you so much," Vince mumbled into Howard's mouth. He assumed Howard repeated the sentiment. What he actually heard was, "Miggus chew."

Howard was groping Vince's arse with both hands. He seemed to be trying to memorize its size and shape.

"My arse isn't usually that big," Vince explained, "I've just been... basically sitting on it for a year."

Howard rolled them over so Vince was on top, straddling Howard's waist, "You're always fussing about the way you look. It's silly."

"It's not silly," Vince snapped, feeling defensive, "You should talk with your expensive haircut and soft hands..."

"It's silly for you to ever worry about how you look," Howard gently interrupted, "Because you always look adorable, and I hate this hair cut. It doesn't work properly."

Vince felt like his brain might short circuit. He really wasn't equipped to deal with straddling Howard, being told he was adorable and grasping the concept of hair cut that "doesn't work properly."

As they so often did, issues of a tonsorial nature took precedence. "Whadja mean it don't work? That's the best cut you ever had."

Howard ran his fingers through his hair, but not like a normal person would, Howard always reached way past where he parted his hair. Vince had tried many times to style Howard, only to see his hard work undone in one nervous gesture.

Vince watched the hair as it briefly stood on end before falling back into place, in perfectly arranged shagginess.

"It looks great," Vince pointed out, wondering if Howard really didn't know what hair was supposed to look like.

"I can't get the little curls," Howard said with exasperation, "That's the best part of my hair and they're gone."

"You have plenty of curls... wait, you mean the ones on the side of your face?" Vince asked, tracing a finger along Howard's temple. When Howard mussed his hair, perfectly shaped curls would stick to the side of his face and forehead. It was one of the few things about Howard that made Vince think of Josephine Baker. Overall, the two had very little in common.

"I could cut your hair," Vince offered, feeling shy, "If you like."

Howard threw Vince onto his back and they were back to full throttle snogging. Vince wasn't sure if that was a good or bad comment on his hair cutting abilities.

Vince wrapped his legs around Howard's waist, pulling him in tight. Howard's erection was pressed against Vince's bum, but instead of being scary, it was pleasant.

"Where exactly are those cameras?" Vince whispered when Howard moved on to chewing his earlobe.

"All around the tent," Howard whispered back, "It's not very private..."

"You wanna do it, anyway?" Vince asked, unable to hide his enthusiasm.

"God yes," Howard whispered before pulling Vince off of the mattress.


	12. Chapter 12

xxx

Title: Empty Chairs

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Vince/Howard

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: sappiness, two men not having sex

Summary: The boys battle unruly zips and self-consciousness.

Author's note: The sex scene got crazy long so I had to split it up. The NC-17 bit will be up soon! I think this tale will actually end in two chapters, and that's a bit bittersweet.

Vince was a little confused as to why he was off the air mattress until he realized Howard was trying desperately to unzip a sleeping bag. There had been times at the zoo when Vince and Howard had zipped their sleeping bags together for warmth. It had always been terrible and embarrassing and more than a little amazing. After their trip to the tundra, Vince could smell Howard on his sleeping bag for weeks. That was before they shared a room and Vince could be as pervy as he liked with Howard's scent. Back then, it was still strange to be surrounded by the smell of Howard. It had turned a long-standing crush into something a little deeper and much scarier. He wanted Howard like he'd never wanted anyone before.

It took a lot of swearing, but Howard managed to get two sleeping bags open. Now they just needed to be zipped together.

"Why do you have two sleeping bags?" Vince asked. Howard turned red and Vince's heart swelled. Howard had brought him a sleeping bag, proof that he truly believed Vince would arrive (and fail to bring his own sleeping bag). Vince was so nervous and excited, he could hardly keep still.

"I'll put out the lights so there are no shadows," Howard whispered, as he turned down his lamp, "There are no cameras inside the tent... but they're pretty thick outside. We'll have to be very quiet." Once the lamp was out, Vince couldn't see a thing. He could only hear the sound of Howard breathing, he sounded as nervous as Vince, but just as eager. Vince had no idea if he was supposed to take his clothes off, and he was too embarrassed to ask.

Howard smacked Vince in the back of the head as he pulled off his coat. It was worth seeing a few stars to know it was time to take their clothes off, not to mention having Howard coddle him a bit.

"Howard," Vince whispered as Howard apologized and stroked his hair, "I think I really love you, like the way people love each other in poetry and pop songs..."

Vince suddenly found himself zipped inside the two sleeping bags with Howard.

"Wow, you really got the hang of that zip!" Vince whispered in approval.

"I just needed the proper motivation," Howard growled as he pulled Vince's shirt over his head. Howard was down to his vest and pants and Vince was still wearing Howard's trousers.

The reason Vince had condoms and lubricant in his bag when he'd failed to pack foundation was not because he expected things to get romantic with Howard during the trip, he'd simply taken to being prepared at all time. The one snog he'd gotten from Howard had been on a rooftop while a mad shaman wielding a sword threatened to cut their heads off. A person truly never knew when a romantic situation might arise, so it was important to be ready.

His heart stopped beating for a moment when Howard said, "I've got... things. Protection and... I'm prepared, that is."

"Really? That is genius! I brought stuff, too. Look at us..."

"I've literally no idea what I should be doing right now."

Vince laughed, a tad relieved, "Me either! The movies always skip over the awkward bit."

"I've read a few pamphlets," Howard offered, "and I was given a few tips..."

Vince felt the weight of their year apart.

"Tips? Like tips for how to..."

He could feel Howard getting embarrassed. He didn't need to see his friend to recognize his nervous tics.

"Mimi had some people speak to me, just in case..."

"In case you wanted to get off with a man?" Vince asked, ready to scratch someone's eyes out. He wrapped his body around Howard, face-hugger style, in case someone tried to crawl into the sleeping bag between them.

"In case you showed up," Howard explained, quietly.

"You talked to Mimi about me?" Vince asked. He was so accustomed to thinking of Mimi as the toxic disaster potentially contaminating his Howard, he'd nearly forgotten she was a famous and cool movie star, "What did you tell her? Did you tell I can pull shapes?"

Howard pressed his lips to Vince's neck, "She's dying to meet you. She's been working on her own WWII transsexual look..."

It was completely dark in the tent, so Vince tried to feel Howard's face with his fingertips to figure out his expression, to know if he was serious or joking.

"Ow!" Howard cried, "That's my eye! And that's my nostril."

Howard's face wasn't so easy to read, but he had a full mongrel pressing against Vince's bum and his breathing was rapid. Howard had two fingers hooked in the waistband of Vince's (technically Howard's) trousers and, though he seemed a little sure of how to proceed, Vince had a pretty good sense of how Howard was feeling.

He felt shy about Howard feeling his soft belly, and tried to hold his stomach in.

"Don't stop breathing," Howard teased, "I don't think we're ready for that level of kink."

Vince blushed at the work 'kink' coming out of Howard's mouth.

Howard fumbled with the button of Vince/Howard's trousers, while Vince tried to think thin.

"Should I stop?" Howard whispered, "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Vince refused to let the opportunity of a life time pass him by because he was self-conscious. Howard had already said he looked adorable.

"I'm bein' stupid. Just, keep in mind I'm not usually this fat, and if we go to Hollywood together, I will go back to living on malt loaf if I have to..."

"You're not fat!" Howard laughed, pinching the extra flesh at Vince's waist, "You're not even chubby! You're thinner than I am and I haven't eaten a decent meal in over a year!"

"So, you have been dieting."

There was a disconcertingly long silence as Howard continued to fondle Vince's soft midsection. Vince was worried he might have brought the whole thing to a halt.

"Are you angry?" Vince finally asked, "I can't see the vein in your neck, so I'm not sure..."

"Food doesn't have any taste when you're not around," Howard whispered, sounding terribly earnest, "Everything I thought would make me able to live without you: fame, money, respect, it was worthless without you around. I need you, Little Man."

Vince managed to kick off the rest of his clothes while kissing Howard. As much as he wanted to hear more about how much Howard needed him, he couldn't imagine letting Howard keep his mouth to himself for one more minute. Vince wondered if it would be easier to think around Howard once they had actually done 'it'. Maybe he wouldn't be feeling so distracted all the time, wondering what is would be like.


	13. Chapter 13

Howard was cursing and fumbling, and kept telling Vince to shut up, but he was handling things better than Vince expected. Howard seemed more comfortable in his own skin than he'd ever been before. Howard had never been able to just look in the mirror and be happy that he was tall, dark and handsome. Howard could only ever see what he was lacking.

Vince was nearly covered in lubricant from Howard's shaking hands, but the big man was making some real progress in the sexy times department. His long fingers were exploring the cleft of Vince's ass. The lube was cold and wet (and everywhere), causing there to be next to no friction between their bodies. They were like badgers on Vaseline.

It was like the time he and Howard had gotten pissed listening to Ziggy Stardust and covered the badger cage in petroleum jelly. Howard had called it research in the field of Muszoology, and Bob Fossil was pacified. Vince had heard Fossil yelling into his tape recorder, "Get a doctorate in Muszoology. I'll show them. I'l l show them all!" as they left his office.

"You're the best mate, ever," Vince whispered as Howard worked one insanely long finger inside of him, "And not just 'cause of this, although this is genius."

"Stop talking, it's putting me off," Howard griped (nearly five minutes later) once he'd finished gently working in a second finger. All the blood in Vince's body was below his waist, and it was getting hard to think. He wondered if, "Well done," would be appropriate pillow talk. He was pretty sure Howard would want to know he was doing a good job. Howard twisted his fingers slowly and Vince started to tremble.

"Stop talking, it's putting me off? That is a terrible thing to say to someone you're trying to get off with," Vince admonished, hating the squeaky quality that was creeping into his voice , "No wonder you couldn't pull in Hollywood."

"Enough talking, sir," Howard ordered, "This is serious business. Man's business."

"It's really genius, Howard."

It would have been nice to actually see Howard's face, but the tent was pitch black, and Vince couldn't see his hand in front of his face.

On the bright side, Howard wrongly thought he could hide in the dark, like Vince couldn't hear the change in his breath as Howard's mouth suddenly went dry.

Vince tried to stroke Howard's hair in a soothing manner, but accidentally poked him in the eye again.

"Should have worn my monocle," Howard joked. Vince could hear the squelch of tears as Howard rubbed his irritated eye.

"Should have. Safe sex and all," Vince agreed. Howard laughed and Vince could feel the Northerner's body relax. He was slowly moving two fingers in and out of Vince's arse, and Vince couldn't help but wonder who had been giving Howard tips. It was a sensation that needed its own word. 'Genius' covered the situation pretty well, but Howard often claimed Vince overused the term.

"Is this... good?" Howard asked, "It's supposed to feel good."

Vince was mortified. It was one thing to moan and squirm, but he wasn't about to _talk_ about how it felt to get fingered.

Instead he whispered, "More," and helped guide Howard's third finger inside. Howard was panting as Vince worked himself on Howard's long fingers. The darkness was making Vince feel brave. It didn't matter how he looked, so he could just focus on how he felt.

Vince's eyes rolled back into his head when Howard's fingers brushed his prostate. So _that_ was what all the fuss was about.

Howard was shushing him, reminding him there were cameras and microphones all around. Vince tried to be quiet, but he was naked in a sort of bed with Howard, and he was getting ready to lose his virginity to the person he'd loved since he was a kid.

"Sorry," he whispered, "I'm just really happy about this. This is great."

Howard cleared his throat, the way he did on those rare occasions that things were going well for Howard Moon, "Do you...? I know I'm not supposed to ask questions, but I can't see a bloody thing..."

Vince stroked Howard's twitching erection through his pants and felt the shiver move from Howard's body to his own. The parts of his brain saying, "This might hurt" and "this might be rubbish" and "this might end up in a major film" were all drowned out by his single brain cell screaming, "Finally!"

It wasn't easy opening a condom wrapper in the dark and Howard's hands were covered in slippery stuff. Vince made Howard take off his vest so he could clean off the foil packet and get a decent grip. He'd suggested turning on a light, just until they got organized, but Howard was panicky and adamant about protecting what little privacy they had.

"If Jurgen finds out what we're doing, he'll throw a bucket of salmon on our naked bodies. Us getting eaten by a bear in flagrante would be a wish come true for that bastard."

After Howard dropped the first two, Vince took over the task of johnny placement. His failure to over think - or really just think about - what he was doing and habit of going with his instincts rarely led Vince astray. Within moments, he had Howard's pants on the ground and his John Thomas encased in latex. Howard's cock felt like a lead pipe in a beer cozy.

"If my dick were this big, I would walk around naked from the waist down," Vince observed as he triple checked to make sure the condom was on right.

Howard chuckled, "Everything feels bigger in the dark, and you may as well walk around naked for all the coverage you get from those jumpsuits. You should leave a little mystery, Vince."

Vince missed his jump suits. He missed being asked for his autograph and the joy in people's faces when he wrote, "I really do love Rock'n'Roll, Joan."

"Are you ready for this, Little Man?" Howard asked, sounding a wee bit terrified.

"Absolutely," Vince lied as he pulled Howard down on top of him. He pushed his fears into a little box labeled 'rubbish' (where he kept his real age and understanding of the English Pound), and surrendered to the moment. There were things that could go wrong, but things were just plain wronger when Howard was away. Howard spent a few more minutes stretching Vince and getting him ready.

"I'm ready, all ready! Get a move on."

"Sorry. I supposed I'm being a bit... anal?" Howard whispered, giggling at his own joke, "That's one of mine."

Vince literally took matters into his own hands. He wrapped his legs around Howard's waist and pulled the latex covered cock towards his hole.

"Is this condom made of Kevlar?" he asked, "It feels about two inches thick."

Howard pressed the tip of his cock against Vince's slippery entrance. Nothing happened.

"I think that condom might be too thick," Vince suggested, It's actually adding girth..."

"It's extra thick, guaranteed to reduce sexual enjoyment by 60%," Howard explained, sounding pleased with himself as he tried pressing his cock into Vince for a second time. It was a better angle and Howard slipped right in.

It took a while for Vince to remember how to speak. Howard kept his hips still, apparently waiting for permission to continue.

"Why would you want that?" he finally squeaked out, "Reduced pleasure?"

"This would already be over without the extra-thick condom," Howard explained, "I'm not sure how long it's going to last as it is."

It was slow going at first, just trying to get their bits to fit together properly, and it was a little uncomfortable. Howard was clucking like a hen, but every time he asked Vince, "Is it all right? Does it hurt?", his voice was so full of passion and caring, Vince couldn't imagine not wanting Howard as close as humanly possible.

It wasn't until Howard started to work up a rhythm that Vince completely lost the power of rational thought. Once Howard's hips started moving, all Vince could do was hold on and whimper. He waited for Howard to tell him to stop blubbering, but he seemed to understand. He held Vince, and stroked his hair as they made love. Once Vince's flagging erection was back at full mast, Howard stroked it with his big hand as he gave Vince what could only be called a thorough bumming. A few times, Howard had to pin him down and tell him not to move, but the condom was doing its job. Vince's toes were tingling, but the desire to get off was secondary to the desire to get Howard off.

He tangled his fingers in Howard's curls and hung on tight, trying to memorize every moment. Howard's back felt just as broad and warm as he'd always imagined. It was like having sex with a cuddly mountain. Howard fucked him with long and slow strokes, a little awkward but gentle and romantic. He whispered actual sweet nothings in Vince's ears, nonsense about Vince being beautiful and sweet and special. Howard pushed Vince's knees back farther and changed his angle until his cock was brushing Vince's prostate with every thrust. Vince couldn't be quiet as he begged Howard to go harder and faster. Howard tried to shush him, but he honored every request. He thrust harder and deeper until Vince was crying out in pleasure. Vince stroked his own cock, helping himself along, but he came as soon as Howard again wrapped his big hand over Vince's. Vince was actually seeing stars as he covered both their hands with ...

"Hot jets of man foam," he giggled. He was sure he could hear Howard's eyes roll.

"Enough of that, Little Man," Howard whispered. When Howard pulled out and unzipped the sleeping bags, Vince was afraid for a moment that he was actually angry. Howard tended to have pretty old-fashioned ideas about romance. He was going to apologize when Howard rolled him onto his stomach. He allowed himself to be arranged until his face was on the mattress and his arse was in the air.

"Oh, Howard," he sighed, "I am never leaving you alone again. Why did we wait so long to give this a go?"

Howard stroked him all over, his hands gentle and his noises appreciative.

When he slid back inside, Vince felt tears stinging his eyes. He was about to start blubbering like a baby.

"Am I hurting you?" Howard asked, stopping mid-stroke, "I thought this might be more comfortable..."

Vince giggled, "I'm such a girl, Howard. Don't mind me. You feel really good."

"I'll try to... finish up," Howard whispered, apparently worried about being an inconvenience.

"Take your time, Big Man. I never want this to end."

It was sappy enough to make Vince laugh to himself, even as a tear rolled down his cheek.

Howard swore and tightened his grip on Vince's hips, using quick, short thrusts until he came. Even with the steel reinforced johnny, Vince could feel how Howard's dick twitched and swelled. In all his fantasies about getting off with Howard, he'd never realized how intimate it would truly be. It was yet another way to infiltrate Howard's mind and body. Genius.


	14. Chapter 14

Title: Empty Chairs

Author: Concupid

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: references to sex, sappiness

Summary: Vince has a talk with Jurgen.

Author's note: I won't bother with the excuses, but if you are still reading, I am sorry this has been such a slow process. Thanks to everyone who has been so supportive and thanks to Bluey for her patience and friendship. Next time I write a story for you, I'll finish it in less than a year... Maybe ten months!

Vince woke with a start. He panicked for a moment, thinking he was trapped under a fallen tree, but immediately cheered up when he realized it was just Howard's arm across his chest. They were fully dressed, but the tent smelled of sex, and Vince had a few aches and pains to prove he hadn't been dreaming.

Genius.

He couldn't see a thing, but he knew the sound of Howard sleeping. Always prone to insomnia, Vince had spent many a sleepless night listening to Howard's steady breathing. He wondered how he'd ever gotten a wink of sleep when Howard had been away. Vince was about to sneak a little cuddle when he noticed a noise outside the tent. After carefully crawling out from under Howard's sleep heavy arm, Vince stepped out of the tent to investigate. If he and Howard were going to get munched down by bears, Vince was glad they'd at least made love one time.

But he really hoped it was just the first time of many. He was ready to wrestle a few bears to ensure himself a little more Northern loving.

Vince peered out through one of the tents flaps and spied long blond hair in the moonlight.

"Jurgen, you dick!" he growled before battling his way out of the tent. He barely registered the sound of Howard grumbling behind him as he stormed/limped towards the director.

"Whadja think you're doing, you berk?" he yelled, causing Jurgen to give a satisfying jump.

"Oh, this?" Jurgen said with poorly feigned innocence, "I was just tweaking the set design..."

"This is supposed to be a documentary. You ain't supposed to be designing the set."

Jurgen shook his, "You clearly know no-sing about film. Reality always needs a bit of... flair."

The moon was bright, and Vince could clearly see what Jurgen had been up to in terms of 'set design'. There was a half-drawn, glow-in-the-dark image of a fish on Howard's tent.

"Why are you so set on getting Howard eaten by a bear?" Vince cried. "He's a successful actor. Why can't you put him in a movie where he does normal stuff? Like not dying horribly? Or just _pretending_ to die horribly?"

Jurgen heaved a sigh and sat on a conveniently placed log.

"It's so hard!" Jurgen wailed. "Everyone ees a director theess days. People make movies on ze mobile phones, and share them on ze blogs. How can a director reach a market so oversaturated?"

Vince felt a moment of sympathy for Jurgen. As a rock star, Vince knew how hard it was to stand out from the crowd. There was always someone younger, with a better phone. Some of them even knew how to sing.

"Not by feeding my best mate to a bear!" Vince squawked, once he remembered where he was and why. "There's other ways to sell a film. What about sex? Or fake violence?"

"Fake violence ees everywhere," Jurgen said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "And I'm not likely to get a steamy sex scene from Howard, a man who managed to remain a virgin in Hollywood of all places..."

"Howard ain't a virgin!" Vince snapped, responding to an instinct born in the schoolyard before pausing to wonder how Jurgen would know something so personal about Howard.

Jurgen's face went through a series of emotions before landing on joy.

"He's not... Ze two of you haff... I must check the footage! Thees ess brilliant! I haff my film. I haff my film!"

Vince watched the crazed director run back into the woods, and wondered if he might have committed a faux pas.

"What's going on out here?" Howard growled in his middle-of-the-night grumpy voice as he crawled out of the tent. "Is that berk skulking about again?"

"I didn't say anything about having sex," might not have been the best response, but it was what came out of Vince's mouth. Vince felt his entire body go red as Howard unfurled himself to his full height. He hadn't felt so acutely aware of their bodies since he began working at the Zooniverse, back when he was made of nothing but hormones, exaggerated emotions and hair.

Vince squeezed his eyes shut and waited for Howard to start and then stop yelling. After a few moments of silence, he cracked one eye open. Howard was staring at his boots. They were nice, Timberlands, but it was odd for Howard to get lost in his footwear.

"Howard?"

Vince felt like they were moving in slow motion. He could see the movement of Howard's curls as he slowly lifted his head, his face a question mark. Vince's legs went a bit wobbly as he remembered running his fingers through those curls while Howard was inside of him. Vince tried to think of something clever or funny or romantic or sexy to say and came up empty. In order to fill the silence, he said what he was thinking.

"I can't believe we actually did it."

It was a particularly bright and dopey looking moon, but it still wasn't bright enough for Vince to see if Howard was blushing, but he was definitely laughing and that seemed like a good sign. It was an even better sign when Howard returned Vince's impulsive hug. In fact, Howard hung on so tightly, Vince couldn't pull away.

"Was it all right?" Howard asked in a strained voice. "It wasn't... You didn't mind?"

"Mind? Are you actually mental?" Vince could feel how the teasing relaxed Howard and wondered what was going on the Northerner's head. He would never understand how Howard could be so familiar and mysterious at the same time. He was Vince's best and closest friend and a distant idol all in one. Vince wondered if he'd ever really understand Howard's view of the world.

"It's just a lot to keep track of," Howard explained with a forced chuckle. "Everything was different in my head."

Vince closed his eyes and inhaled Howard's scent, trying to imagine Howard's idea of how things should have gone. Vince's fantasies had always fallen into two basic categories. There were the sappy, lovey, Rolling Stones tunes being played on violins in the background while Howard and Vince made love on a bed of rose petals type that weren't so much about sex as the indulgence of being able to touch Howard and just give in to being a great big girl's blouse. Then there were the uncomfortable fantasies, the ones that had always felt much more realistic: the fantasies where Howard was drunk or under a spell, or he thought Vince was a girl... There were a million scenarios that lead to a quick and guilty shag; scenarios that always got Vince off but left him feeling queasy and ashamed.

"It was better than I imagined it," Vince confessed. "You always hear stories about first times being rubbish, but it was genius. You were genius."

"I didn't know it would be your first time, too, that is..." Howard trailed off for a moment until Vince squeezed him tight. That seemed to bring Howard back to the present. "I did a lot of research on what to do, but I didn't... "

"It was perfect, Howard. If it were any better, it would have been rubbish." Vince didn't care that it didn't make sense, it was true. If things had gone any smoother, it would have felt like a movie. It wouldn't have felt like them.

"Next time will be even better," Howard promised. "Given enough time and practice, there's nothing Howard Moon can't conquer."

"You wanna practice some more? See if we've improved?" Vince teased, pressing his erection against Howard's thigh.

"The cameras..."

"Jurgen already knows we had sex."

Howard scooped Vince off of his feet and carried him back to the tent. Vince was laughing when Howard dropped him on to the air mattress. Other than the minor details of the bears surrounding their tent, and the madman recording their every move, Vince felt like they were moving in the right direction.


	15. Chapter 15

Title: Empty Chairs

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Fandom: The Mighty Boosh

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: sappiness and graphic sex

Summary: Vince starts seeing Howard in a different light (metaphorically)

Author's note: I started this for Bluey's birthday LAST year, so I'm posting on her birthday because I owe her that! Sappy smut that does not move the story any nearer to its conclusion. The best kind of chapter!

Howard still kept the lamp off, not wanting to supply Jurgen with any footage, but he moved like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Did you ever mention me to Jurgen?" Vince whispered, trying to remember Jurgen's exact words. After accidentally letting it slip that he and Howard had made love, Jurgen had said he had his film. That seemed like a potentially bad thing.

Howard stopped moving. Vince could hear Howard's teeth grind, a sure sign he was worried.

"What's wrong, Howard?"

"I said things..." Howard whispered. "I talked about you."

Vince reached out to touch Howard's arm, when the big man didn't move away, Vince began to stroke Howard's bicep in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

"S'okay, Howard. I won't be mad. I know you wasn't too happy with me," Vince assured him. "I know you love me."

He couldn't take the words back. He just had to wait for Howard's reaction.

"I told him I loved you."

Vince went limp with relief.

"I said a lot of things."

Vince found Howard's mouth and kissed him. He could handle whatever Howard might have said, as long as he know that Howard loved him. Besides, he'd called the Northerner every name in the book while he was gone and some of that was likely to get back to his friend at some point.

Vince liked everything about Howard's mouth. He liked the way Howard tasted, the feel of his teeth (like hard pegs of cream), even the way his mustache scratched Vince's face. He was disappointed when Howard pulled his mouth away, but Vince decided he also loved the feeling of Howard sucking on his neck and he really liked the feeling of Howard's hand sliding into his pants. Howard liked to bang on about his magic fingers, but Vince would never again tease him. Howard's digits had surely been enchanted by an especially racy god or goddess.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Howard whispered. "I want to try something... different."

Vince couldn't imagine what he would say no to if he'd agreed to a bumming, but he reassured Howard.

"Sure. Whatever, you freak."

Vince had a moment of self-consciousness as Howard kissed his chest and belly, but the noises coming from Howard suggested the Northerner wasn't fussed about a few extra pounds. Vince tried to get some of Howard's clothes off, but when Howard was on a mission, he was stubborn as a mule. It wasn't long before Vince was completely naked and Howard had only removed his jacket. Vince considered protesting, but then Howard started licking his belly button and he decided they could argue later.

Vince played with Howard's soft curls and imagined how Howard's warm and wet mouth would feel just a bit lower, but there was no way he was going to suggest it. The last thing he wanted was to be kicked out of the tent. Getting eaten by a bear was nothing compared to the despair of losing the feel of Howard's bristly mustache on his hip.

When Howard wrapped his mouth around Vince's cock, time stopped for a bit. Vince could smell color and hear feelings. It was like being on ecstasy only without all the idiots with glow sticks and pacifiers.

Whoever had given Howard tips deserved a Nobel Prize, because Howard's mustache was scratching Vince's belly as the big man took him all the way down his throat. He could feel Howard's right canine, his favorite of Howard's teeth, gently scraping his skin and thought it wasn't such a terrible idea to wait a decade to get off with someone. Back in the day, he could never have appreciated every bit of Howard's anatomy the way he did now. He wouldn't have savored the calluses on Howard's fingers (from playing the guitar and tapping his fingers impatiently while Vince got ready). He wouldn't have recognized the movement of Howard's head as he instinctively looked to Vince for approval, even though they couldn't see a thing in their tent.

He wouldn't have felt Howard's fingers gently feeling for and then carefully avoiding the scar on Vince's hip, clearly concerned about causing Vince any pain. Howard could leave Vince a lonely mess, because he had no idea he was capable of breaking someone's heart, but he would never press on a healing wound.

Vince couldn't help bucking his hips a few times and received a gentle smack on the behind each time. When Howard worked a wet finger inside of Vince, he was done for. He gripped Howard's hair and cried out as he came, before collapsing into a pile of goo.

"Did you just yell Jagger?" Howard teased. Vince had no idea.

"I love you, Howard," he whispered as he fumbled around, trying to find Howard's face. His friend ducked away at first but finally allowed Vince to kiss him. He licked at Howard's teeth, trying to memorize their exact shape, just incase Howard ever needed Vince to whip him up a pair of dentures. Learning every inch of Howard's body had been Vince's goal for as long as he could remember. He could taste himself in Howard's mouth. It wasn't strong, but it was different from how Howard's mouth had tasted a moment ago. It was like cutting Howard's hair. There was something immensely erotic about knowing he had, in some small way, left his mark.

"Howard, did I get eaten by a bear in the night?" Vince asked, not really joking. "Am I dead like in an M. Knight Jambalaya film?"

"I meant to do that the first time," Howard quietly explained. "It was on my list, but I guess I got carried away..."

"Do you really have a list?" Vince giggled, imagining Howard's "Bumming To Do List". He could only assume step one was fly to a remote and bear filled location with a lunatic director.

"I'm Howard Moon! When I make the leap across the physical boundary..."

"You make a PowerPoint presentation?"

Howard was quiet, a sure sign Vince was not far from the truth.

"I'm a student of life, Vince. I have a compulsion to learn and grow," Howard explained, his old bravado present if a bit forced, but he sounded less sure of himself when he asked, "Any suggestions for improvement? I know I don't always take criticism well..."

"You stapled my hair to a wall for suggesting you use a different font for a Zooniverse flyer."

"But I really want to do this right, Vince."

It wasn't like Howard to be so honest and straight forward. It hurt Vince's heart to hear his friend lose his characteristic bluster. For the first time since their reunion, it occurred to Vince that living among the beautiful in Hollywood might have changed more than Howard's hair.

"You can't do things wrong, Howard," Vince assured him. "Not with me, anyways."

"Cheers, Vince," was Howard's completely inappropriate response.

Vince started pulling at Howard's clothes, despite his friend's apparent reticence to be naked in the dark in a tent. When he finally got out Howard's cock, Vince was feeling nervous and seriously out of his depth. Vince's mind was buzzing with possibilities, and he couldn't quite decide what to do next.

"This is nice," Howard whispered. "Your hand is nice."

There wasn't a filthy thing Howard could have said that would have unnerved Vince more. He suddenly became self-conscious, wondering if his grip was too tight or too loose, if he should speed up or slow down. True to form, Howard picked up on Vince's hesitation with the skill of a long time friend, and completely misconstrued it like a paranoid freak. He pulled Vince's hand away and said he could take care of things himself.

Vince pressed his lips to Howard's ear, speaking as quietly as he could, "I want you inside me again. All right?"

Vince could only assume the rest of Howard's clothes flew off like the Spirit of Jazz was getting frisky (what a kinky bastard he was), because Howard was fully naked and pinning Vince to the air bead in a matter of seconds. He heard Howard fumbling with the lubricant and grabbed it from his friend's giant paws.

"You worry about the johnny, I got this," Vince whispered. He could hear Howard's eyes cross, but soon he could also hear a foil packet being ripped open. Vince felt filthy (in the best way) as he worked slippery fingers into his entrance. He wasn't sore, but he felt stretched and strange and eager to feel the slight sting of Howard inside of him.

Howard's hand joined Vince's as he quietly asked if Vince was ready and if he was sure and if he wouldn't rather just have a snuggle. Vince tried to imagine himself purring, "Fuck me, Big Man," in a husky tone and how sexy it would be.

But they were filming a documentary not a porn, so Vince simply whispered, "Make love to me and promise you'll never leave again."

"I won't," Howard responded in a voice hoarse with emotion. "I won't leave that is, I will make love to you. In fact, the term make love, this is a funny story, it dates back..."

"Less talking, more toe curling," Vince ordered, rolling Howard onto his back and straddling his waist. It wasn't the easiest position, but once Howard was deep inside, Vince relished having complete control over their movements. He ground his hips in a slow circle and listening to Howard moan. Even spent from Howard's first class blowie, the feeling was wonderfully erotic an intimate. He only had to tighten his muscles and Howard would whimper.

"Why didn't we try this years ago?" Vince whispered with a giddy giggle.

"Because... oh, dear, that's... I didn't know how."

It was a simple statement and it nearly broke Vince's heart in half. Vince had teased and flirted and tried to get a rise out of Howard for years before accepting his partner wanted to maintain their status quo. Sometimes Vince was mean and petty and sometimes he was clingy, but he was always fully committed to his non-romance with Howard.

Yet it never occurred to him to pursue Howard in the one way that might have worked. He should have gotten some literature, printed out a few graphs and illustrations and asked Howard to give it a shot.

He rode Howard slowly, enjoying the feel of Howard's hands caressing his thighs and back. He was starting to get hard again, his sensitive cock torn between insatiable lust and feeling a bit spongy and chaffed.

Vince bent towards Howard's hear, "I thought you was handsome from the first day and your voice was well sexy."

"I thought you looked like an ugly girl."

Vince tweaked Howard's nipple, but the twitch deep inside of him suggested Howard was not recognizing it as a punishment.

"What do you think now?" Vince asked, unable to not add, "You know, when I'm not a mess."

"I was willing to be eaten by bears to get your attention," Howard replied. "Work it out."

Vince worked it out. As soon as he was completely hard, he gave up on the slow grinding and rode Howard like they were in a porpoise race. He no longer gave a toss about Jurgen's cameras, all that mattered was that Howard loved Vince as much... possibly more than Vince loved Howard. When he felt Howard tensing up, Vince pressed their lips together and tried to smother Howard's groan. He didn't mind his own porno soundtrack, but Howard was a private man. Vince's arms and legs felt like jelly as he pulled away. He was exhausted and hard and felt a strange urge to cry. He was lying on the air mattress, trying to catch his breath while Howard began gathering his clothes. He couldn't quite muster the energy to do anything but tremble, so he stayed still as Howard cleaned him off and zipped him into their shared sleeping bag. Vince wondered if he had the energy to go out for a wank, but Howard took things in hand. Lying face to face, Howard peppered Vince's face with kisses as he stroked Vince's thighs and rear. He occasionally stroked Vince's cock or slipped a finger inside his arse, but he waited until Vince was about to exploded to take Vince properly in hand. Being his third orgasm in a few hours, it wasn't earth shattering, but he was being snuggled and petted by Howard when he came. It was better than any sexual fantasy he'd ever had. Even the one about Howard in his little slave costume.

He still had the loin cloth and chains at home. Howard couldn't have lived in Hollywood without learning a bit about being kinky...


End file.
